Page 60 of The Pass Protection
Chuckling, I watch as a nervous Bret sidles up next to me. Tossing my arm over her shoulder, I pull her closer but still at a friend’s safe distance. Holding our shots out, we hold them in a cheers position while Brynn snaps the picture. “Got it. Now drink up, bitch.”
“Happy birthday, Crew.” The two of us tap cups before shooting the shots. The warm liquid hits my tongue as I swallow the cinnamon-flavored liquor. We’re in for a wild night if we start with cinnamon whiskey.
Licking my lips, I shiver. “Did you plan all this?”
“What are secret girlfriends for?” she shrugs, flashing me a playful smirk.
“Riggsby!” Harris shouts over the music. “Happy fucking birthday, man!”
Nudging Bret’s shoulder in a silent gesture of endearment, I walk toward my best friend, who’s standing in the hallway opening, arms outstretched. We pull each other in for a quick, friendly embrace, our arms crossing diagonally over each other’s backs. We seal the gesture with a few taps to the back before stepping apart with easy smiles.
JP and Grant step up to us, both slapping me on the back. “Did all you fuckers know about this?”
Harris and JP’s guilty expressions are the only answers I need. Grant points his beer bottle toward his sister. “She just told me last night.”
Flicking my gaze from my friends to my girl, I watch as she tilts her head back and laughs at something Brynn says. Brynn rubs her bellyover her tight T-shirt, and I notice her tiny baby bump for the first time. I still can’t believe she and Q are having a kid. He called us a couple of weeks ago and told us the news. It was the day after Bret had all of the girls over while we had an away game.
“Drink up, motherfucker.” Cody shoves a can of beer into my hands as he slaps my back. “Happy twenty-first, man.”
Popping the tab, I chug the ice-cold light beer. Cody chuckles. “You’re going to have a fun practice tomorrow.”
“That’s tomorrow’s problem.”
I mill around the party for the next hour, surrounded by twenty or so of my closest friends. I drink beer after beer and shot after shot as music plays the soundtrack of our night. Plastic cups and cans litter our apartment. No wonder Rebel was busy cleaning yesterday. A happy buzz has infiltrated my system, and I can feel the floppy grin spread across my face. Everything seemed a little brighter and a little funnier as the world felt pleasantly blurred.
I’m leaning against the doorway when I feel a woman’s body lean into mine. Instantly, I know it’s not my Rebel. Glancing down, I find Brynn staring up at me. “You’re glowy.”
She chuckles. “Thank you, I think? I brought the birthday boy another shot, but I’m unsure if you need it right now.” I shrug, flashing her a dopey grin. “There’s our golden retriever.”
I quirk a brow, and she nudges my side. “Your what?”
She smiles. “Every time you get drunk, you become the human version of a golden retriever. Your eyes spark with joy, and you always have this huge smile plastered on your face. You become so affectionate, always throwing your arms around us, doling out hugs, and giving us high-fives like you’re just so thrilled to be around us. Not to mention your energy as you bounce around. It’s infectious and absolutely adorable.”
“If I’m a puppy, can I live with you and Q?” Leaning down, I rub her belly and take on a baby-talk voice. “And, of course, the little sprout, too.”
“Oh my god, Riggsby.” She wraps her arm around my waist for a side hug. Hugging her back, I rest my arm on her shoulder as we observe the party.
Bret stands with her back to the balcony doors as her body is angled toward the TV. She has a whisk in her hand as a makeshift microphone as she reads off lyrics on the screen. The Killers “Mr. Brightside” plays as Bret attempts to sing the lyrics. Thankfully, she balls better than she sings. I watch her bounce as she dances to the beat, waving her arms and holding the whisk to her face.
Brynn taps my chest, pulling my attention away from Rebel. She smirks up at me when my eyes land on her. “Don’t worry, Riggsby, your secret is safe with me.”
I quirk my brow, and she hands me a plastic shot glass. “Happy birthday, Riggs.” Shooting the cinnamon whiskey, my lids close, and I smile, feeling completely carefree.
Who said Monday night birthdays suck?
This has been the best night surrounded by my favorite people. The hangover waiting for me is going to make my Tuesday terrible, but that’s tomorrow’s concern—nothing a few iced lattes won’t cure.
The month is flying by. After Crew’s birthday on the sixteenth, it’s been nonstop schoolwork and studying. Eat, sleep, basketball, and study. Then repeat. But now that midterms are over and Halloween weekend is here, it’s time to let loose and blow off some steam.
Not only am I looking forward to dressing up and partying with my friends, but I’m also super excited because it’s the weekend when Olivia flies in.Finally.
We’ve been planning outfits and sending links back and forth as we determined this year’s Halloween costumes. The Eagles Nest is throwing its annual Halloween party Saturday night after the guys’ early afternoon home game.
Glancing at my phone, I check the time and her flight checker for the hundredth time. If I don’t sit down, I’ll pace a hole in our floor while I wait for her rideshare to drop her off. She refused to have me drive and pick her up, saying it was a waste of time. Olivia Reed is forever Miss Independent.
The rapping of knuckles on our door startles me. Bounding down the hall, I whip open the door. Squeals erupt as I come face to face with my best friend. I take in the beauty before me dressed in her signature grunge style.
Liv stands a few inches shorter than me. Her long legs are covered in open fishnet stockings, a leather miniskirt and Doc Martens. An oversized tee is tucked into the front of her skirt while her silvery-white hair hangs down her back in loose curls.
